


A Little Bruise

by KidRoy



Category: Succession (TV 2018)
Genre: Fights, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Canon, Teen Years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:41:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26726098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KidRoy/pseuds/KidRoy
Summary: Kendall is jumped after school. Stewy helps him hide his black eye.
Relationships: Stewy Hosseini/Kendall Roy
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	A Little Bruise

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to @moonrocks for editing!!! I could not have written this one without you!!

Kendall always waits until he’s one block away from school before taking out his brown baseball cap and putting it on. Stewy recognizes the habit. Kendall developed it several months ago when the headmaster saw him wearing the hat on the front steps scolded him about proper uniform etiquette.

Kendall, always sensitive to any chastisement, began to stuff his cap in his bag in the morning and take it out in afternoon, always a block before they reached the building. Stewy thought it was weird at first. Kendall was yelled at once, and now he has a full ritual. The headmaster only saw because he used the student entrance, something that was out of the ordinary. It might have been the only time since they started Collegiate School until now, in April, that he used a student entrance. It was bad luck and timing.

Kendall wasn’t punished for the slip up; he wasn’t even warned, but the incident shook him. That’s why they’re here a month later, standing on the side of the street as Kendall rustles through his bag, desperately looking for his cap.

“Can’t we just... go to my house and look, like your bag is an absolute mess.” Stewy looks at the papers sticking out of planners, textbooks falling onto the sidewalk. Maybe he can get Kendall to clean it up at his house.

“I just need it. I need to know I got it.”

Kendall’s determination isn’t worth arguing over. Stewy knows Kendall always gets attached to things. His cap is like a teenage version of a security blanket.

Stewy sighs and lets Kendall look as he checks the time: 2:30 pm. They have three hours until Kendall needs to get home, enough time to at least get a bit of NES in—

A yelp pulls Stewy out of his planning. Three larger boys loom over Kendall as he rubs his head. Before Kendall can look up, one of the boys puts his knee on Kendall’s neck. He holds him down while another boy kicks him in the side.

Stewy as he pushes himself in between Kendall and the boys to pull him out of the pile. He’s able to move Kendall to the side before he notices a blur in his periphery.He turns to see one of the boys: an upperclassman he recognizes from school. He thinks his name might be Chester. Stewy knows what this is. He and Kendall have always been targeted, ever since they were kids: the famed boy who never lived up to his family’s persona and his friend who never looked like he belonged at a prep school.

“Fuck off,” Stewy snarls, just loud enough for them to hear.

The older boy responds with a mocking grin. Stewy pushes down his instinct to lunge at him as he sprints across the street with the other boys. In a few years, Stewy thinks he might be able to take them.

He turns his attention to his Kendall. Kendall is cradling himself in a fetal position, stifling whimpers that make him sound like a small, wounded animal. Stewy assesses where they are. The moderate foot traffic mostly weaves around them, but a few rubberneckers are taking notice. One middle-aged woman across the street nudges her husband. They turn their attention towards them, seemingly deciding if they should intervene. It’s enough for Stewy to realize he has to get Kendall out of public view, and fast.

“Let’s move to the side man, come on.” Stewy taps the side of Kendall’s head and watches as his friend uncurls like a pill bug. Kendall finally sits up, still gripping his eye. Stewy leads Ken to a nearby stoop and makes him sit.

“Hey, dude... let me see.” Stewy puts a hand on Kendall’s thigh, giving him a soft squeeze. He feels Kendall calm down.

“St—Stewy, I don’t think I can open it,” Kendall stutters.

“Just move your hand, hey…”

Stewy gently touches Kendall’s wrist and leads it downwards to uncover his swollen, red eye. Stewy looks down, biting his lip to keep himself from grimacing. He looks around nervously as Kendall sniffles.

“Is it as bad as it feels? Stew, I really can’t open it.”

Stewy knows he can’t react in front of Kendall. The boy can barely even stand a finger cut if he sees the blood, much less a bruise that’s swelling his eye shut.

Stewy gets up, throwing Ken’s bag over his shoulder. He offers his friend a hand and pulls him up. “Come on, we’re going back to my place.”

He lifts Ken up by his arm and they head towards the street, Stewy’s arms in the air, ready to hail a taxi.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Linda is the Hosseini family’s head maid. She’s been working for them since they came over to the States. In many ways, she’s raised Stewy. She’s the one at his parent-teacher meetings, the one who’s home during most school nights, the one who signs off on forms, and his first line emergency contact. Stewy guesses this is what a mom is to most middle class kids, but he’s never really dwelled on the differences between him and them.

He knows his parents love him well enough. They usually come home after he’s asleep, after being at other properties, or traveling. Stewy got so used to this that by the time he was seven, he’d stopped asking where they were off to. He supposes he’s expected to feel bad about not seeing them, abandoned or neglected—the poor rich boy raised by his staff—but he never has. He’s been given more than he ever needs, he hears from them enough, and he still has Linda to take care of his day-to-day.

In these moments, Stewy is thankful that she’s here and not his parents. When Stewy brings Kendall to the kitchen, still suppressing his small whimpers, he knows he can sway her for what they need.

“Thank you, I got it.” Stewy grabs the bag of ice as Linda walks from the back pantry. He puts it on Kendall’s eye and places Ken’s hand over the bag.

“Do not let go, and put pressure,” Stewy instructs Ken who whines a soft affirmation.

“Stewart, your parents will be displeased if you spend all your time with your friend,” Linda chides. “Your father asks about your studies. Kendall, can’t you go home or to the doctor?”

The stern tone of her voice reminds Stewy that his father did, in fact, leave that instruction. The start of high school has been weighing heavily on his parents’ minds. The concern is founded, since they’re rich, but not Roy rich.

The guarantee is first class, not a private jet. Kendall was born into it—he will get it no matter what he does—but Stewy wasn’t. If he doesn’t try, he could miss out on top Ivy or possibly not even get into Cornell, which is something Kendall can be handed by name alone. Grades matter more to Stewy. He can easily deliver, but his father has always been pertinent with it. A part of him gets it. What would be the point of America if not to have your child climb the ladder of success? Especially if your starting place is already on such a high rung? But the pressure isn’t needed. Stewy is consistently a top student. It irritates him, but he knows this is a line for his parents, and their fear, however unfounded, could lead to a snag in his planning.

Stewy turns to his maid as he puts a hand on Kendall’s knee. He knows he needs to steady him.Kendall’s eyes hold a terror Stewy hasn’t seen since he forced him to watch The Thing a few summers back. A hoarse “no” and a head shake from Kendall makes the decision for Stewy. He can’t leave his friend in this position. He needs a plan.

“Linda, may I talk to you in private please?”

Stewy adopts the tone his father uses with their staff. Stewy drops his hand from Kendall and feels the emptiness resulting from the lack of touch. He walks out of Kendall's ear shot and turns to see Linda following.

“Hi, Linda, we have a science project… due next week. It would be fantastic if I could take care of my friend’s situation and then get to work?” Stewy tries to hover over the maid. At 5’3,” he now has about half an inch on her.

Linda furrows her brow and looks him up and down. Her expression gives him a twinge at the back of his neck. He knows she might suspect he’s lying. He’s been doing this since as far back as he can remember, perfecting the skill of getting away with skipping any obligation, keeping whatever he needs to from his parents. It hasn’t always worked in the past, and he’s been caught enough times where he wasn’t allowed to see Kendall, but that’s not an option right now. Kendall needs him. Stewy can’t let him down by letting it slip.

He knows how to sell this.

“We really need to get to work now,” Stewy says, hardening his gaze. “I’ll have dinner with Ken. Will you tell my father please?”

Her face softens. The mention of his father was the card Stewy needed. He won.

Stewy doesn’t wait for Linda’s response. He turns his attention back to Kendall, pressing the ice onto his eye. Kendall squeezes them shut as he suppresses a sob.

“Relax, close your eyes and just let it go,” Stewy whispers as he leans in to Kendall’s ear. Stewy rubs Kendall’s back and feels the tension built into the muscle. It reminds him of his own soreness after a rough rugby practice.

“Do you think they’re going to tell anyone? Like... to a paper? The Post?” Kendall whimpers. “Stewy, he’d freak, if they did that. I can’t—”

Kendall turns towards him. Stewy watches as the icey, watery bag in his hands slides off his eye as he shakes. Stewy catches the bag as it falls. He takes a seat next to Kendall.

“Nah, they aren’t believing that you were splayed out on the ground crying. What’s the headline? Son of Logan Roy bullied? Look at the photos of you at RECNY and they can see that,” Stewy says as he takes over holding the ice. “And it’s freaking Chester. He isn’t going to do shit but show the rest of the school, man. Come on, you can use your brain here.”

“I’m just a bit nervous..." Kendall mutters. “It's a lot,”

Stewy suppresses a grimace. He’s not entirely sure he believes nothing will come of it. The growing tension knots in his stomach. He steadies Kendall’s head with a touch beneath his chin and lifts it back up. Stewy is sure to be gentle. He knows that Kendall is sensitive to touch.

He moves the ice from Kendall’s eye and winces at the sight of the swollen lump that’s forming. He’s never seen someone really hurt like this before. Maybe he shouldn’t have sent Linda away. Maybe he should get Kendall to a doctor. The purple and blue bruising makes Stewy repress a wince.

“Holy shit, Stew...?”

Stewy is pulled from his brainstorm by Kendall’s panicked tone. Stewy scolds himself in his head. He glances at his friend. Kendall has the eyes of a doe facing down a hunter’s rifle. Stewy can’t say he’s overreacting. He can’t lie to him. He knows what Kendall has to face. He’s seen how Logan treats him. He’s overheard “be a man” conversations, slight digs at Kendall’s size and his ability to fight. Stewy knows exactly why when Logan enters a room, things seem to get still. And even when he leaves, they don’t recover, especially not Kendall.

His father’s presence makes him into someone Stewy sometimes doesn’t recognize: a boy who isn’t the fun, playful, honest person. He turns into a mess, stuttering, sad, leaning on a bravado. That’s not Stewy’s Kendall at all. He sighs.

“Hey... man, listen. Look up at me.” Stewy gives Kendall a playful flick to his forehead, making him flinch.

“I can’t look up, Stew, like—” Kendall buries his head in his arm. “I can’t open my eye!”

“Look with one eye dude, Jesus… like you have two!” Stewy says while running his hand through Ken’s thick, brown hair.

“Listen, I think it’s a black eye and it’s going to bruise, like… bad...”

Stewy crouches down so he’s on Kendall’s level as Kendall lifts his head. Stewy is careful not to react to the already discolored mass again. Kendall responds with a whimper, closer to that of a stray dog than a teenage boy.

“I know, okay, I need you to listen to me. We are going to fix this.” Stewy squeezes his knee.“We need makeup.”

Stewy looks Kendall square in his right eye, the functional one.

_____________________________________________________________

The boys enter MAC on Fifth Avenue and are greeted with rows of mirror and salon chairs lining the walls, with a plethora of makeup on display. The sheen is clean and sophisticated.

Stewy feels a rush of excitement and suddenly forgets why he came here. He knows his mother comes to this MAC, and he’s always wanted to go too. The black bags often appear on his foyer table, and the elegant look of the store makes him long to peer in. Stewy has been curious about makeup and skincare before. He already knows he loves comforts, spas and massages. He even talked his mother into letting him get a facial once. But the MAC Cosmetic store is a place he hardly admits that he wants to go to.

“This is great dude… like...”

Stewy is lost in watching a makeup assistant dash powder on the upper east side socialites. It feels familiar, but also like a window he can look into but not enter. It wasn’t for him, but he has a reason for it to be now.

“Stew, we’re the only guys here,” Kendall nervously mumbles.

Stewy realizes he completely forgot about his half-blind friend and brings an arm around his shoulders. He pulls him in, watching as Kendall sheepishly pulls down his cap to cover his eye and reddening cheeks.

In Stewy’s opinion, Kendall is absolutely clueless looks-wise beyond whatever he’s seen in the latest Top 40 music video. Kendall—who has access to any designer brand, any cologne he could desire—can only muster 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner, oversized hoodies, and AXE body spray. Stewy’s not sure if Kendall has even washed his face before, much less left a pimple unpopped.

“Listen, all we gotta do is find your foundation match, and that’s just your skin shade and undertone. It’s easy!” Stewy pats Kendall on the back and feels him slouch over.

“Well, you know quite a lot about makeup, for a boy.”

The woman’s voice makes Kendall jump. Stewy whips around to see the makeup consultant, probably college aged, sit at her station.

“Come over and let me help you boys.” She turns her makeup chair around, inviting them to sit. “I’m Lisa.”

Stewy sees Kendall fold into himself, his shoulders slumping downwards.

“I’m Stewy, this is Kendall. We have to cover his black eye,” Stewy says in his most confident tone as he lifts Kendall’s head up and pulls his hat off. He knows Ken might whine about this later, if he remembers.

“Come over, boys. I got you covered.” She smiles a warm saleswoman grin.

Kendall reluctantly sits, looking back at Stewy with his working eye: a cry for escape.

“Hey, don’t worry, you're in good hands,” Lisa says as she lifts Kendall’s head, inspecting his eye.

Stewy walks over and peers at her station as she starts talking to Ken. Brushes, foundation, lipstick, shadow, cleanser, moisturizer. He forgets again why he’s here and tries to put together what he knows from quick glances at magazines and overheard conversations between his mother and her friends.

“S—so, we are putting a lot of things on it… Will it hurt?” Kendall’s stutter snaps Stewy back into the moment. He puts a hand on Kendall’s shoulder.

“We’re foundation matching right? I think he’s kinda olive tone, if I could be honest, a green undertone,” Stewy remarks. “That with a concealer, I think!”

He looks at Lisa. Her eyebrows are raised as in a shock as she gets Kendall’s makeup ready. Stewy looks at Kendall and sees that he’s right, but he realizes her surprise is more at his knowledge and interest. He looks down in slight embarrassment. He’s overheard a former nanny talk about foundation and might have tried it on himself a few times.

“I’m impressed,” Lisa says. “You seem to know quite a bit about makeup, huh!”

It does make Stewy feel a bit better, being accepted by someone experienced.

“Yeah, why do you know so much?” Kendall chuckles from his seat, then winces as Lisa begins to blot foundation over his bruise.

“I want to look good! What? Guys can’t look good? Just some coverup and skincare,” Stewy says as he jumps onto the makeup counter next to Lisa’s supplies. “Damn, we’re in New York. Aren’t we?”

Stewy catches Kendall looking down. He thinks he can see his cheeks redden, but it could just be the mirror lights.

“Well, you are some forward thinking young men!” Lisa proclaims as she rubs concealer on Kendall’s face. Stewy has to hold back a laugh, knowing what Kendall’s father does and what class they run in.

Stewy looks at Kendall and realizes his bruise is covered.

“Oh my god, Ken… It’s barely noticeable.” Stewy can’t help but move to Kendall’s side. He brings him in for a side hug. Kendall’s relief can be felt. He’ll live to see another day.

“So you know the steps and what you have to do?”

Stewy feels tension run through Ken’s body. Kendall grips his arm.

“...steps? I have to…” Kendall’s voice trails off.

Stewy realizes Kendall wasn’t following along at all. Stewy brings his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Even though he understands Ken more than probably anyone else in the world, Kendall still does things that amaze him.

“Can you repeat any of the steps back… at all?” Stewy forces Kendall to make eye contact with him.

“I… know I have foundation and a powder, and I—” Kendall pauses and looks down in a mix of panic and humiliation. Stewy places his hand on Kendall’s thigh. He feels how tense he is. Stewy realizes this isn’t just an absentminded moment. His determination sets in as he feels Kendall begin to shake again.

“Lisa, it’s moisturizer, primer, foundation, cover up and powder right?” Stewy looks up at her. Shock is on her face again. This time, it makes him beam.

“You really are a makeup natural… What, are you coming for my job, kid?” Lisa gives him a playful look.

“I don’t have my working papers yet, so...” The banter helps Stewy ground himself in the situation. He begins to think of how he can move on. It’s just a detour, he tells himself.

“I’ll do it,” he says.

Ken’s head snaps towards him.

“Listen, before school, like, before your family breakfast, I’ll come up and do it. I’ll take the service elevator, the one you sneak out from when you’re grounded. Give me the back key from your staff, and we can do this.”

Stewy takes a triumphant breath. He’s impressed with himself and his plan is without fail. A chess master who just won the top match. A top Vegas poker player. A strategist who won a war. It’s a plan fit for a King’s invasion, he thinks smugly.

“Stewy… I… don’t know. What if someone sees you?” Kendall’s hunched form indicates that Stewy has more work to do.

“Listen, I can hide if anyone hears me,” Stewy says. “Like your place has so many freaking rooms, it’s easy. And if staff see me—”

“You can’t let them! They’ll tell my dad!” Kendall interrupts. The color has drained from his face, making the bruise a bit noticeable again. Stewy hopes that he won’t be scared in front of his father for the next week.

“Hey,” Lisa interrupts and leans to the boys level. “I think you should trust your friend.” She gives Kendall a warm smile and pats them both on the back.

Ken takes a breath.

“Okay, but Stewy you have to hide like… really, really well. Not a bathroom! And from staff too because everything goes back to him.” Kendall’s fear hangs off the last word.

“I’m a natural at this. Do you even remember the last time I got caught? I’m much better at getting away with shit than you.” Stewy lets that hit him. Kendall doesn’t really think outside of anyone but himself. He doesn’t realize that his trouble isn’t about others, but about his own doings.

“We’ll take it all.” Stewy hands Lisa a card. “On the Amex please.”

He turns back to Kendall.

“Look, I got a plan. If I get caught, I can say I’m surprising you... for, like, a project. I don’t know, I can think on my feet.” Stewy tries to sound as rational as possible, but the thought of meeting Logan Roy in a dark hallway at 5 am doesn’t sound that appealing.

Kendall bites his lips and looks down. Stewy is under no illusion what Logan is to Kendall or what Logan has already done to him. He knows Logan is a blackhole that sucks all the energy out of the room, and Kendall is the main planet in his path. Once Kendall is swallowed, Stewy is usually the one who finds the pieces and puts him together. He hopes he does it well, but he’s only just learning how to make it work.

“I trust you, Stew,” Kendall says.

Stewy feels relieved and determined. It's a warm feeling to know Kendall can be safe with his guidance. He can make it okay.

Stewy picks up Ken’s hat and puts it on his head

“We just can’t have you hiding under a hat all day.” Kendall takes it off and smiles, the first real one in a while.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Day 1. A dimly lit alley behind Kendall’s building. Stewy is there at 6:30 AM sharp.

He steps in a grey puddle and whines out loud. He didn’t account for ruining a pair of loafers. He makes a note in his head to get Linda to order him a new pair. He wasn’t warned that the service entrance would be unkempt.

A rusty door beside a dumpster is the only entryway in sight. Stewy briefly considers abandoning the plan when he sees residue on the knob. He pushes the door open and calls the service elevator.

Stewy is usually waiting for Kendall to come down this elevator, not waiting to go up. It’s where they meet when Kendall sneaks out. Usually, he’s grounded or there’s some family gathering he has to attend. He always gets out and back in though. Stewy is never sure how Kendall does it, but he always gets out for an hour or so, timing it perfectly to get back in.

The elevator rings and Stewy gets on. He pushes the button to the penthouse, inserts the key that Kendall gave him last night. His hand shakes as he turns it. He hopes it’s just shivers from his wet socks and not his nerves.

Stewy shakes the thought away. He begins to review the items he has in the black MAC bag he brought: brush, moisturizer, primer, foundation, three concealers and a setting powder. He bites his lip to force himself to focus through his groggy discomfort, silently reviewing the steps before the elevator comes to a halt. The doors open.

Stewy walks out into a kitchen, one he hasn’t seen before. He knows his service quarters are pretty quaint in comparison to the Roys, but this is more than he was expecting. He scans the room: a long silver table usually seen in the back of restaurants, mixers, bowls, all the appliances, several workstations, and several giant refrigerators. He is struck by it, but quickly shakes off the shock as he opens a door that leads to the end of a hallway.

Stewy knows he has to acquaint himself with the location of Kendall’s room. He usually enters on the other side of the apartment, through the main entrance. He begins to look for a familiar door. He knows Kendall’s bedroom is the third on the left from the top of the stairs. The darkness throws off Stewy’s sense of where he is as he counts the diffused lights coming through the windows of each respective room.

He finally reaches Ken’s door and knocks carefully. It abruptly swings open. He feels an arm grab him and pull him in.

“Don’t knock, Stewy! Jesus!” Kendall pointedly whispers.

He’s in brown boxers and an oversized shirt: the Yankees shirt Stewy gave him for Christmas last year.

“I wasn’t sure which door was yours! Entering from the other side of your house is confusing, you live in a maze!” Stewy says while suppressing a smile.

Kendall turns his desk light on. “Well! Now you know, so don’t do it again!” he hisses.

Stewy jumps onto the side of his massive ornate oak desk. It looks like it belongs in the study of an aging professor, not a 14 year old boy.

“So how did it go last night?” Stewy moves on. He makes sure that his legs don’t hit the side of the desk as they dangle off. Usually, he would absentmindedly kick the side of anything he sits on, but he doesn’t want to make a noise, for Kendall’s sake and his own.

“Went good, no one noticed…” Kendall mumbles. “Said I was sick and went in my room early and just put the ice on it.”

Stewy feels relief wash over him. That was his biggest fear, that it wouldn’t work in the first place. If Kendall ices it everyday, his eye will heal, for the most part, in a week. Stewy feels better.

He takes a glance at Kendall’s face and notices that the makeup from last time is beige and crusting and there are spots of purple and red showing through.

Stewy grabs Kendall’s face. “Uh… did you wash the makeup off yesterday?”

Stewy gently moves Kendall’s face so his eyes are pointed at him. The chips of foundation that are flaking off tell Stewy the answer already.

“Why would I do that? My dad could see me in the hallway without—” Kendall shakes his head, which makes Stewy let go of his face.

“Bro… no, it’s… You gotta fucking wash it. Bring water with you in here, like… your room is fucking bigger than most fucking houses, just, keep it here. Wash it, okay?”

Kendall nods and looks down. Stewy gives his knee a quick pat.

“Dude, go wash it now and come back.”

“What if my dad sees me?”

“Bro, it's dark, like it’s a dark hallway. What, he’s a cyborg with night vision? Go!” Stewy nearly pushes Kendall out the door.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. Kendall’s anxiety towards Logan seeps into Stewy’s mind sometimes. He tries to relate. Maybe his father smacked his hand a few times and that might lead to a therapy session or two in the future, but it’s nothing compared to what Kendall is dealing with. There is no pressure on Stewy to be anything he doesn’t want to be. There aren’t major consequences for any slip up he makes. His parents might not be there all the time, but at least they respect him. Stewy doubts Logan respects Kendall. That seems to be the heart of all of this.

His thoughts are interrupted by Kendall coming back into the room. His eye is completely uncovered now, the black and purple clearly visible. Kendall sits on his desk next to Stewy.

“It’s not as bad as it could be on day two, especially since you let make up set in on it.” Stewy leans into Kendall as he moves Kendall’s chin up to clean the wound. He pats a bit of moisturizer on his skin. The bruise is fading. It’s a relief.

Kendall looks to the side, clearly a bit distressed as Stewy moves to the foundation. Kendall’s furrowed brow makes it hard for Stewy and he wishes Kendall would stop.

“Relax, I got ya.” Stewy says as he strokes the side of Kendall’s cheek, causing him to close his eyes. Stewy feels a heat growing on his own face. He moves onto the concealer.

Kendall cracks a smile. It feels natural: the small touches, the warmth that grows in Stewy’s stomach, the comfort of Kendall’s happiness.

He finishes. “Alright, check it out.”

Kendall turns toward the mirror and looks. “Oh my god, you did it… like… it’s like the one from the store.”

Stewy can’t help but feel a bit smug.“Hey, if he notices you can say he gave it to you.”

Kendall freezes up and looks away. “Not funny, Stew. You know that’s not funny.”

Stewy feels the words hit him back. He’s spotted bruises on Kendall before. Legs, thighs, his face a few times. He hates it. He’s never felt anything but a growing rage every time he’s seen one. Any time he sees Kendall sheepishly look away or tell Stewy there was a ‘family event’ or even when Kendall brings up Waystar so enthusiastically.

Stewy knows this isn’t the first bruise Kendall has had. They’re all bruises, all making him less like who Stewy knows. It’s a rage he’s unfamiliar with. It only comes up in this circumstance.

Stewy tilts Kendall’s chin up, making him look at him. Their eyes meet.

“It’s not funny and I didn’t mean it to be. He gave it to you. And I’m going to fix it.”

_________________________________________________________________________________

For the next week, Stewy is able to get in everyday to cover up Kendall’s eye. At school, he has Kendall ice it during lunch, then reapplies the makeup in the bathroom. Chester and the boys who jumped him even seem annoyed that Kendall isn’t wearing a badge of their beating. Stewy and Kendall won.

On Friday, Day Five, Stewy shows up at 6:30 am per usual. He has come to really enjoy waking up early and seeing Kendall before school. Kendall has calmed down, letting Stewy touch his face now. If Stewy didn’t know any better, he would say Kendall was enjoying it.

As Stewy dots the powder underneath Kendall’s eye, he sees Kendall take a breath.

“Stew… you almost done?” Kendall grips his eyes a bit tighter, causing Stewy to mess up as he evens out the powder.

“Bro, relax. Not so tight.” Stewy adds a gentle stroke to Kendall’s cheekbone and Kendall loosens his clenched face. Stewy smiles as he returns to the bruise.

“Hey, so... I think I can do this from now on... I got the steps down. And this weekend might be tough on account of Roman coming home,” Kendall says hesitantly. “I can do it. I promise.”

Stewy feels his stomach drop, like he sucked in too much air.

He lets go of Kendall’s face. Kendall looks in the mirror and flashes a full-mouth smile with his slightly crooked front tooth, the one that reminds Stewy how purely his friend feels. Kendall never tries to deceive with a look. It’s just his truth, one that Stewy can always see.

Stewy reaches out and runs a finger by the newly covered bruise. Kendall lowers his eyes. Stewy gulps and realizes his stomach feels light. He realizes that he wants to be there to cover all of Kendall’s bruises. The ones Logan gives him. The ones the world gives him.

Stewy leans forward and puts his lips on Kendall. He doesn’t dare open his mouth as he feels his friend’s skin against his. He feels Kendall pull back at first, but then Kendall pushes forward.

Stewy swears he feels him push a bit forward. It feels like there’s a magnetic pulse between their mouths, pulling them together. A rush of warmth fills Stewy’s head and creeps through the rest of his body. It’s correct, this is how all of this was supposed to end. This is how he cares for Kendall, how he wants to. A smile tugs on the sides of Stewy’s mouth as he realizes he has never felt what he’s feeling in this moment.

Stewy pulls away to see Kendall’s face drenched in red bewilderment. The cogs of Stewy’s mind stop turning for once. No plans, no solutions, just racing thoughts, none making sense. His head begins to throb. A breath is suppressed by a lump in his throat, and his eyes feel moist. Stewy turns towards the door, not wanting to catch Kendall in his periphery. For once in his life, he has no desire to be with him.

“I’ll see you in two hours. Bye,” Stewy says as he fumbles out of the room.

He feels as if he crashes out the door. It sounds louder in his mind when there’s no response from Kendall, or the rest of the house. The lump turns into a sob as he makes his way into the elevator. He bites his lip to hold as much as he can back as tears begin to fall.

Stewy hopes that isn’t the first bruise he gave Kendall.

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to comment here and reach out on tumblr at kendallsparkcoke or twitter at vinnydanieI !!!


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